Volunteer photographers immortalize babies who died young

Les Henig of Garrett Park is one of 7,000 professional photographers who volunteer with the Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Foundation, a national nonprofit group that provides remembrance portraits for families with stillborn babies or babies who are very likely to die.

Aiden and Luke Campbell were born so tiny their feet could fit within the circle of their mother's ring, and both twins nestled easily within their father's cupped hands.

When their mother, Louella Campbell, entered premature labor in October, Luke and Aiden were born just 22 weeks into their term. The boys survived on Earth a mere hour and a half each, but they will endure much longer on their parents' bookshelves, thanks to the professional photographs taken by one member of a volunteer photography army that immortalizes babies who die too young.

"I think about the things that I would take if I had to run out in a fire, and these are some of the things," said Campbell, flipping through a scrapbook in her Frederick home. The photos of husband Matt holding the boys, of Luke and Aiden in a nest of feathers, of her children, are the only ones she will ever get to have of them.

The pictures were taken by Stacey Blomstrom of Silver Spring, one of dozens of area volunteers for the Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Foundation, a nonprofit that sends professional photographers to take portraits of babies who are stillborn or live only a few weeks. The foundation has more than 7,000 volunteer photographers in 25 countries.

The photographs help families cope with their grief and remember their children. Campbell learned of the organization when she gave birth to another set of twins, William and Kaitlyn, in 2007, and Kaitlyn died at five and a half hours old. Afterward, Campbell found the foundation's Web site on the blog of another grieving mother. Campbell's own mother had taken photos of Kaitlyn, the only shots of the girl with her brother, and because of that, Campbell told expectant parents about Now I Lay Me Down to Sleepjust in case.

She never wanted to have to use the organization herself, but when the need arose, Campbell was grateful to have it, because she lacks "the luxury of memories."

"I think for me, having the photographs means that they were real. I think a lot of people think babies that have passed away weren't real, they didn't exist, if they haven't experienced it," she said.

Blomstrom, the Campbells' photographer, said she contemplated for eight months whether to volunteer before finally doing it. A mother herself, she said she needed to determine whether she could handle the emotional work. Ultimately, Blomstrom decided her job as a photographer was to document life moments, even the hard ones.

"Even though their life was short, and sometimes only in the womb, [these babies] were loved and that story needs to be told," Blomstrom said. "It's a way to honor their little spirits."

Les Henig of Garrett Park also volunteers for the organization. He said he uses the camera as a shield from the emotional task; once he had to photograph five babies in a single exhaustive week. Henig takes most of the photographs at the National Naval Medical Center in Bethesda and Holy Cross Hospital in Silver Spring, which both have infant intensive care units. Usually, nurses or social workers find out if a photographer is available, Henig said, and then suggest the portrait shoot to the parents.

Henig said the parents of lost children often say yes. The photographs serve as a kind of third-party affirmation that the love and effort put into the child was real and important.

"You've been pregnant, you've tried to get pregnant and you go through the nine months, or you go to the hospital expecting to bring home a baby. It's devastating," Henig said. "The thought that has occurred to me is when my children were born, we ended up with the photographs of a newborn and a baby to take home. They only have the photographs."